


candy eyes (he's paradise)

by orphan_account



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Multi, at least i finished 2 mins before their birthday ended???? consolation prize, happy birthday to jinho and hongseok if youre here dont read this go away, hongseok and shinwon team tagged a cafe and it is V Popular, jinhui have a music store, literally wrote this in a coffee induced haze in 1 day bc i wanted it completed for jinhongseok day, um, what even is here this is the most useless story wtf, yea the title is me lusting after honk's eyes, yeah they fuck. no i dont write that, yeoyan are literally just three line cameos but i wanted them in so here they are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:13:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23702896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jinho has four moods:1. Fuck.2. FUCK.3. Well, fuck.4. "Fuck, Hongseok!"
Relationships: Jo Jinho | Jino/Yang Hongseok
Comments: 5
Kudos: 70





	candy eyes (he's paradise)

**Author's Note:**

> ok so. first kpop fic ever. first pentagon fic ever. yay?
> 
> honestly idk what this is. i just wanted to give my own useless part to Jinhongseok celebrations. i haven't been a uni for very long so please forgive me if you find some of the things that the characters do a little unbelievable, i'm still getting into them.
> 
> obligatory disclaimer: none of these characters are reflections of their real world counterparts, this whole fic is just me pouring my bullshit down the pentagon hole
> 
> also alex. thank you. you're the real mvp. and also escher bc yes. i got inspired by honk's eyes.
> 
> (and yes i listened to the lay me down cover 700 times)

When Jinho enters the shop at six thirty in the morning, it’s to the sight of Hwitaek spread out in the middle of aisle seven, starfish style, with his hair splayed out on the floor and his legs tucked under the shelves.  
  
“Hwi,” Jinho says, “good morning. What the fuck?”  
  
Hwitaek sighs loudly, but doesn’t look up at Jinho. “Someone bought the building next door.”  
  
Jinho keeps his cup of coffee on a shelf, and kneels down to look Hwitaek in the face. He hasn’t been crying, Jinho knows, because a crying Hwitaek has redness spread across his nose like a clown failing at makeup, and Hwitaek right now is as pale as ever.  
  
“How long have you been here?” Jinho almost doesn’t want to ask, but he needs to know.  
  
“It’s six thirty, right? A couple of hours, maybe. Got the news at two.”  
  
He’s impassive, almost neutral, but Jinho can see the tears pooling at the corner of his eyes now. He’s going to start crying soon.  
  
When Daebak! Milkshakes had abandoned the building next to them, Hwitaek had been ecstatic. They had the perfect timing. Asteroid had been doing amazingly well, and the two of them had been talking about expanding their music store long before Daebak decided to empty the building. Hwitaek had spent months trying to grab the space, but their street was well known, a hotspot for students in nearby universities. It’s expensive to get even a stall here. There hadn’t been a lack of competitors, either.  
  
Jinho sits down on the ground just as two tears escape down the side of Hwitaek’s face.  
  
“Hwitaek,” Jinho says, quietly, “this is not your fault.”  
  
Truthfully, it doesn’t matter. Asteroid is popular, known for stocking every album in every genre of music under the sun, for their biweekly open mics. They’ve never struggled for customers, especially since Hwitaek and Jinho blew up on YouTube almost five years ago and started attracting customers from every corner of Seoul. They’ve never hurt for money.  
  
But Jinho knows better than to mention that.  
  
Sometimes, Hwitaek is like a dog with a bone. He will dig and dig and dig, and come up only with the prize clutched between his teeth and the scent of triumph hanging around him. With him, it’s never been about money, only about the fact that Hwitaek is completely unable to accept defeat in any way that can be defined as healthy.  
  
“Hwitaek, look at me.”  
  
Hwitaek’s eyes remain trained at the ceiling out of sheer stubbornness. Jinho flicks his forehead, and finally he turns to look at him. His hair is a fiery orange, courtesy of an overenthusiastic Hyunggu, dark where it’s splayed out on the white tiles.  
  
Jinho runs a hand through it. “Get up, Hwitaek. The kids will be coming in soon. Clean yourself up.”  
  
Hwitaek shudders, but nods. He stumbles and almost falls down, but manages to push himself up and off the floor. Jinho uses his leg as a support and stands up.  
  
In the evening, when they’re shut, Jinho will open up a bottle of wine and get Hwitaek drunk. For now, he’ll let him listen to sappy bubblegum songs and stock albums into shelves.  
  
Jo Jinho has known Lee Hwitaek for over a decade. Hwitaek rarely fails at anything he attempts, but when he does, it usually results in a breakdown. Jinho can’t unpack that, not with only an hour to opening the store. He can only hope that Hwitaek can repress him emotions for a day, unlikely as that seems.  
  
*  
  
Yuto, Wooseok and Hyunggu arrive together, as they always do. Jinho likes them – wouldn’t have hired them if he didn’t. They remind him of himself, a bit. Just out of college, broke, aimless, because you can’t become successful in the mainstream music industry unless your uncle’s friend’s brother’s girlfriend knows a CEO, or you’re willing to sell your creativity off. Or if you just don’t have an endless barrel of good luck.  
  
They haven’t given up, Jinho knows. They’ve got channels of their own, and the day before Jinho called them up to confirm their jobs, he binged all their videos.  
  
1.4k. 1.9k. 2.1k. yutoda, Jung Wooseok, Kino. They couldn’t have lived off that, not by a long shot, and Jinho’s felt extreme pleasure at watching their sub count grow over the past six months.  
  
They walk in at exactly 7 am. Hyuggu’s slung over Wooseok’s back, and Yuto’s following behind them with a disgustingly fond look on his face. Jinho only stares. And stares.  
  
“Hyunggu,” Jinho says, “your hair is white.”  
  
Hyunggu giggles. “An astute observation.” He swings down from Wooseok’s back. “I got bored of the red, and Yuto said I’d look good in it.”  
  
Yuto flushes. Jinho only shakes his head in disbelief. How they don’t notice each other’s giant crushes, he will never know.  
  
(He’s pretty sure, actually, that they all know. They’re just stupid, and a little scared.)  
  
Between the five of them, prepping the store for opening never takes long. Wooseok changes the posters of musicians on the walls every day, and the rest of them restock the shelves with albums. Jinho likes the light bantering between them, usually, but today he’s piling Taylor Swift’s _Speak Now_ in aisle 1 and sneaking glances at Hwitaek.  
  
By eight, they’re done. Asteroid is officially open. Jinho and Yuto park their asses behind the two registers, and the day begins. An ordinary Friday.  
  
And then the ordinary Friday turns into a shit Friday.  
  
It happens during break. The store is empty, and they’re all standing near the registers, crowded around food. Hyunggu has been sacrificed to the burning sun outside after an intense game of rock-paper-scissors, and now they’re just waiting for him to get the ice cream Wooseok wanted to eat.  
  
When Hyunggu does come back, his face is sour.  
  
Everyone frowns at his expression. Before anybody can say something, though, Hyunggu dumps the packet of melting ice cream on the counter and says, “Somebody’s already started moving in next door, the shop’s painted beige.”  
  
Hwitaek stills. Everyone glances at him, but he says nothing.  
  
Jinho sighs. “Eat up, everyone, and do it fast. We have to get back to work.” He takes Hwitaek to the side, but he says nothing, and Jinho knows that he won’t get anything out of pushing Hwitaek, not now.  
  
For the rest of the day, Hwitaek is a disaster. He snaps at a girl asking too many questions, and gets chewed out by her father. He snaps at Hyunggu because Hyunggu was making too much noise, and manages to drive him to tears. Finally, after he’s apologized to Hyunggu and cried about it himself, Jinho pushes him behind one of the registers and sends Yuto out into the soul sucking world of salesmanship. He’d feel bad about it, but Yuto looks way too happy to be working with Wooseok and Hyunggu.  
  
Eventually, the clock hits five. Jinho forces the triplets out of the store before Hwitaek even gets up from the register, and locks the door.  
  
Hwitaek looks at him in confusion. Jinho dims the light till they’re almost nonexistent, and takes out the two bottles of wine he payed Wooseok to get for him. He doesn’t have glasses. Neither of them cares, not now.  
  
He pulls a bottle open, and passes it to Hwitaek.  
  
“Talk.”  
  
Hwitaek takes a sip, passes it back to Jinho. “I feel terrible. And like I want to kill whoever bought that stupid building.”  
  
Jinho nods. Hwitaek takes the bottle back and brings it to his mouth. For a second, they’re both silent.  
  
“It’s not their fault, Hwi. You know that, right?”  
  
Hwitaek nods. “Of course, I do. I just don’t care.”  
  
Jinho sighs. “Get drunk, you idiot. Maybe you’ll be a little more reasonable in the morning.”  
  
Hwitaek chuckles. “Unlikely,” he says, and grabs the bottle of wine out of Jinho’s hand.  
  
*  
  
Saturdays are, by principle, happy days. Everyone’s bubbly and bouncy the entire time they’re working, and get more so when Hwitaek closes the door at four in the evening.  
  
Saturdays are open mic days.  
  
Asteroid is big. Not massive by any means, but spacious enough that they can handle a crowd of around seventy people with the shelves pushed along the walls. There’s a makeshift stage they put up, and a mic they’ve connected to the speakers.  
  
And that’s it. Jinho has sworn never to serve food; not only does he not have a license for that, he just doesn’t want the reputation of the store to be marred by shitty food.  
  
They could probably make more money running the store as usual. But they don’t. Music is what bound Hwitaek and Jinho together all those years ago. It’s what keeps them sane now. It’s the reason MagazineHo exists, the reason he kept uploading songs even when no one watched. Jinho loves Asteroid, he truly does, but music runs in his veins as much as blood does, and he’d let the shop burn down before he loses the ability to share his passion.  
  
By five thirty, the shop is transformed. There’s soft yellow lighting instead of the bright bulbs they usually use, and the shelves line the walls. There are dozens of chairs on the floor, tables scattered between them, and the doors are open.  
  
The only money people spend in Asteroid during Saturday evenings is the entry fees. People fill the store completely by six, food and beer in plastic bags and huddled around in little groups, facing the stage.  
  
Hwitaek is always the one who starts off these nights, much to the delight of the various HuiNation subscribers in the crowd. Jinho goes after him, and then the triplets randomly decide their numbers. The people are in the store are usually regulars, and Jinho knows them by name. He’s glad for the familiarity; it means they’re all mostly over the 1.8M they see beneath his videos. There are only a few outliers, but Jinho manages to avoid talking to starstruck people by burying himself in circles of the regulars.  
  
Jinho pays more attention to the people around him than the ones on the stage. It’s nice to see people talking, better to hear music or poetry or stories being performed in the background. He always finds someone new on there, something new. It’s the best part of his week.  
  
Halfway through the night, a man comes up on stage. Jinho recognizes him, vaguely, the way he recognizes the girls who come in every time an idol releases a song. He’s wearing a sweater that drowns him, even in the warm mugginess of the summer evening. The somewhat-stranger is handsome, but those words mean nothing to Jinho now, not when he works with people who have the face structure and bodies of supermodels.  
  
“I’m Hongseok,” the man says. “This is a cover of Sam Smith’s Lay Me Down. Enjoy, I guess?”  
  
The audience chuckles. Hongseok smiles.  
  
Then he opens his mouth, and Jinho thinks he might actually be in love.  
  
All his attention is focused on the man. The audience always become quiet during performances, saving their applause for the end, and for the first time Jinho feels like cursing them for it because the silence doesn’t let him do anything except stare at the man on the stage.  
  
Jinho has heard better. He’s heard Hwitaek. He’s heard himself, and the one thing he’ll ever boast about is his voice, because it’s hard to get better than him. He hasn’t spent the entirety of his life practicing for nothing.  
  
But.  
  
_But._  
  
The man has his eyes closed as he belts out the song. His hands move, twist together as he sings, and there’s smoothness in his voice that suggests equal parts talent and practice, and there are emotions on his face even though Jinho can’t even see his eyes, and Jinho knows nothing about this man except that he can sing, and that Jinho is in love with him.  
  
There’s silence in the store when the man ends. Someone starts clapping, and it’s followed by a buzz of appreciation spreading over the store.  
  
The stranger blushes, bows, and disappears into the audience.  
  
Jinho forgets his fucking name.  
  
*  
  
He gets over the disappointment quick enough. In this, he and Hwitaek are twins; they fall in love with music and the creators of it way too quickly, and leave them behind just as fast.  
  
And then, on Tuesday, he sees the man.  
  
Hwitaek’s been somewhat irritated all day. They still don’t know who’s moving in next door, because the people never seem to work in daylight hours. The only hint of humanity in there is progress; chairs have appeared inside the store, and sometimes Wooseok will peer in through the glass and report on the fact that they have a menu pasted over the counter, or sofas on the sides of the room. Hyunggu joins him in the borderline stalking and confirms that it looks to be a café, painted beige and yellow, and has flowers tucked into the window sills and running down the counter.  
Hwitaek pretends to puke when he hears that.  
  
On Tuesday, specifically, Jinho comes to the shop and figures out the name of the café beside their shop.  
  
_Fantasystic._  
  
It’s written in curly cursive, and it’s painted a bright blue. It looks right at home next to the silver block of the Asteroid sign, and it’s exactly the kind of thing Hwitaek would usually love, but doesn’t right now, because he hates the owner of that place.  
  
And now his music crush is standing in front of him, holding out a white box with a heart-sinking _Fantasystic _stamped onto it.  
  
“Hi,” he says. “My name is Hongseok. I’m the owner of _Fantasystic_ next door.”  
  
Fuck.  
  
*  
  
Yang Hongseok, as it turns out, is younger than Hwitaek by a year, and has been following both HuiNation and MagazineHo since 2012, which is three years before anyone actually knew their names.  
  
Hwitaek still hates him, and bolts into the backroom the moment he sees the blue logo on the box.  
  
Jinho makes stilted small talk with Hongseok for fifteen minutes. He’s blushing and awkward because he can’t for the life of him believe that this man has been following him for eight fucking years, and that he’s visited _Asteroid_ millions of times, and Jinho still doesn’t remember, which is shameful and a disgrace because Jinho could have been talking to him so much sooner.  
  
Hongseok only laughs it off, chalks it up to the fact that he’s never put any effort into his appearance before that day. _Fantasystic_ opens on the coming Saturday, and Hongseok blames several late nights for his dark circles and aura of misery and depression. Even after the fifteen-minute disaster of a conversation, he doesn’t ask for a picture, which Jinho appreciates more than he can express in words.  
  
Hyunggu and Yuto devour the pastries he’d brought, while Wooseok goes in the back to Hwitaek so he can force some of Hongseok’s food into him. A good idea, Jinho thinks, because quality food can win over any person, even someone as dumb as his best friend.  
  
“Does he hate me?” Hongseok asks, gesturing at the door behind which Hwitaek is hiding. Jinho grimaces.  
  
“Not you, specifically, he’s just been after the building you’re in for a fair amount of time. Don’t worry, though, he’s a sucker for cafés, he’ll come around soon enough.”  
  
Hwitaek won’t come around, not until he has something to get out of it. And he fucking _hates _cafés. But Jinho will absolutely make him accept Hongseok, because now his music crush is sitting in front of him and his stupid, limp infatuation has a tiny, potential chance of blossoming into something else.  
  
“Oh, okay,” Hongseok says, and smiles, and Jinho think he might actually die because his left eye is a little smaller than his right and it makes him look just a little cross eyed and Jinho thinks that it’s maddeningly cute.  
  
Eventually, Hongseok leaves, citing work. Jinho nods him off and thanks him for the pastries.  
  
When Hwitaek comes back, Jinho hits him on the head.  
  
“Get over this, Hwi. He’s cute and I want to suck his dick.”  
  
Hwitaek sputters, and Jinho only rolls his eyes.  
  
*  
  
Jinho sees Hongseok every day, after that. Sometimes it’s only for a few minutes; he’ll come around they’ll chat for a bit before he leaves. The triplets already have Pavlovian reactions to his presence, because he always has food with him whenever he visits.  
  
They find out that they have a unique ability to never shut up around each other. Hyunggu teases him about it, for a bit, but mysteriously stops when Hyungu starts mentioning two particular best friends of his.  
  
Jinho also find out that Hongseok is a gym freak, and that he’s opening the café with three other friends, and that they share literally no hobbies except for a deep love of music. Jinho kind panics after Hongseok tells him the first piece of information, and his heart doesn’t fare very well when Hongseok shows up the next day in a tank top, body on full display.  
  
On Friday, Jinho manages to drag Hwitaek out to meet Hongseok. He’s staying longer than he usually does, almost an hour, and Jinho’s tired enough of Hwitaek’s bullshit to subject him to this.  
  
With the combined powers of Yuto, Wooseok and Hyunggu, Jinho’s been able able to wear down Hwitaek a lot. He doesn’t hate Hongseok now, only mildly dislikes him. That’s good enough for Jinho.  
  
“Hi,” Hwitaek says, stiffly.  
  
“Hey,” Hongseok replies, hiding a smile.  
  
It’s silent for a second. “This is so awkward,” Jinho complains. “Kids, want to get drunk?”  
  
Hyunggu is the first one to act. He jumps behind the counter and emerges with several soju bottles in his hands, and it doesn’t even take a second for Hwitaek to reach out and grab one.  
  
And god, Jinho forgot how bad a drunk Hwitaek really is. He’s naturally a touchy person, but his clinginess gets magnified the more alcohol he consumes. In the end, it’s five pm, and Hyunggu is lying down with his head in Hwitaek’s lap. Hwitaek’s leaning against a completely sober Hongseok, who’s watching Woosoek and Yuto in amusement as they drunkenly try to play hopscotch on the tiles.  
  
And Jinho’s a little buzzed. Happy, but not enough to wax poetic about Hongseok’s eyes.  
  
Hongseok catches him staring and smiles his stupid, eye crinkling smile.  
  
_FUCK. _  
  
*  
  
Hongseok’s café opens with a crowd in front of _Asteroid._  
  
There’s a line. A huge, long line, which snakes past their block and down the street, and ends somewhere near the flower shop on the intersection. Jinho knows this only because Wooseok ran down it to check its length.  
  
Yuto periodically looks out the window at the sheer number of people. Jinho knows he won’t see Hongseok today, not with how many people are waiting to get into his café.  
He’s right. He doesn’t see Hongseok.  
  
He sees Shinwon.  
  
Jinho knows about Hongseok’s friends. Yanan, Changgu and Shinwon. Shinwon’s the business part of Fantasystic, Yanan is the barista-slash-social-media-guy, and Changgu just makes the best cookies in the whole of Seoul. Jinho just hasn’t met any of them yet.  
  
Therefore, he doesn’t recognise Shinwon, only computes that there’s a hot guy in front of him holding a white box. Jinho gives him a polite smile, but before he can say anything, the guy shoves the box under Jinho’s nose. “Hi, I’m Shinwon, one of Hongseok’s friends. He told me to give this to the short, cute one because he’s busy. Gave it to the one roaming in aisle five, but he said it’s for you. Bye!”  
  
And then he’s gone.  
  
Jinho looks down at the box in front of him. At the edge, written in black marker is a note in messy handwriting.  
  
_Hope you enjoy red velvet cupcakes, Hyung – Honggie._  
  
Well, fuck.  
  
*  
Hwitaek corners Jinho the same day.  
  
“I saw an angel today. His name’s Shinwon. He told me I have a great ass.”  
  
Jinho smiles, and thinks that maybe, something’s finally in this for Hwitaek.  
  
*  
  
It boils down to a random Friday.  
  
A month after _Fantasystic_ ’s opening, Hongseok sends Yanan over to invite everyone at _Asteroid_ for a party. Both stores close early on Fridays – Shinwon claims an overwhelming workload as the reason, which Jinho says is bullshit but thinks of as valid, because their lines are yet to lessen – so Hwitaek agrees to let the kids stay for the extra hour that Hongseok’s café will be open for.  
  
When they enter _Fantasystic_ later in the evening, Yanan’s lying over a table, arms slung dramatically over his eyes. Changgu’s taking pictures of him, smiling whenever Yanan calls him over to look at the pictures because _oh my god Changgu do I look ugly?_  
  
(He doesn’t. He’s the official eye candy for a reason.)  
  
Yuto immediately moves towards their table. He’s grown attached to Yanan in a very short amount of time, mostly because Yanan drags everyone to _Asteroid _for Saturday nights and spends the whole time making weird observations about the audience.  
  
Hongseok is drawn out of the kitchen by the noise, and Jinho immediately smiles when he sees Hongseok’s dumb KISS THE COOK! apron, and the flour stuck on his forehead.  
  
“You’re here! Yanan, get off the table.” Hongseok smiles at them. “We have soju, and beer too. Just ask Shinwon for whatever you want.”  
  
At the sound of his name, the redhead peeks out of an open door, and smirks when he sees them. Or Hwitaek, Jinho thinks, because his eyes drift downwards and Jinho would rather not dismember Shinwon for ogling his ass instead of his friend’s.  
  
It takes a lot to settle them down. Hongseok finally screams at them to shut up before they gather at one actual table, and even then they’re constantly moving and giggling and shouting.  
  
Over the past month, Jinho’s realized this: his friends are crazy. So are Hongseok’s. It’s not a good idea to mix them, ever, and this day is just another example of this. It takes them literally half an hour to get drunk, and then Hyunggu’s on the floor, slut dropping because Shinwon dared him to.  
  
By ten in the night, an increasingly flustered but sober Yuto has dragged Wooseok and Hyunggu off to their shared apartment. Changgu and Yanan followed soon enough, with Changgu giggling into his boyfriend’s side as Yanan held them both up.  
  
And then it’s just a drunk Hwitaek clinging onto Shinwon, left alone with Jinho and Hongseok.  
  
Jinho’s said this before, and he’ll say it again: Hwitaek is a bad drunk. He hugs Shinwon and murmurs things to him that Jinho knows he will regret later because they’re all so stupidly dumb, because Hwitaek loses all comprehension when he’s wasted.  
  
It works on Shinwon.  
  
It fucking _works_ on Shinwon, because he picks up Hwitaek into his arms abruptly and mutters a slurred goodbye before booking it up the stairs, and into his apartment above the café.  
  
Jinho watches his disappearing figure with disbelief. He needs to give Shinwon the best friend talk, he decides, just not when the whole world is swimming and his blood is half alcohol.  
  
This is when Hongseok’s arm shifts from Jinho’s shoulders to his waist, and his head drops onto the top of Jinho’s head and into his hair.  
  
Jinho freezes. There’s no sound inside the café, now, except for the slow music playing on Hongseok’s phone and the muffled havoc of nighttime Seoul. “Are we alone, hyung?”  
  
Jinho nods. Hongseok sighs into his hair, and Jinho feels tremors run through his entire fucking body and out the tips of his toes and fingers.  
  
“Hyung.”  
  
“Hongseok.”  
  
Hongseok looks up, finally, and gives Jinho a small smile. “How far is your apartment from here?”  
  
“Twenty minutes walking. Why?”  
  
“Mine’s ten. Come over.”  
  
*  
  
Hongseok’s apartment is small, and somewhat crappy. There’s an abnormally large shelf of books in his living room, and a basket of albums and DVDs shoved under it.  
Jinho likes it.  
  
*  
  
Jinho likes Hongseok’s bedroom better. It’s painted a light blue, and there’s pictures everywhere, and the bed creaks when they fall into it.  
  
*  
  
_“Fuck_ , Hongseok!”  
  
*  
  
“Is this what young people call dating?”  
  
“I think it’s called hooking up, hyung.”  
  
“…”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“…”  
  
“In my defence, that’s a terrible way to ask someone out.”  
  
“Oh, for fuck's sake. Come here, you buffoon. Will you be my fucking boyfriend?”  
  
“Yes, I’ll be both: your fucking boy, and your boyfriend.”  
  
“That wasn’t even funny!”  
  
*  
When Jinho enters _Asteroid_ at seven am the next day, it’s with a large headache, and no recollection of anything except Hongseok and his fucking abs.  
  
Everyone’s there already, and it’s suspiciously quiet, because usually they’re all complaining on hangover days. Hwitaek is dawdling around in a large yellow hoodie Jinho has never seen. He narrows his eyes at his best friend. “Whose hoodie are you wearing?”  
  
Hwitaek doesn’t meet his eyes, and mumbles something inaudible.  
  
From the other end of the store, Hyunggu shouts, “He got dick last night!”  
  
Hwitaek turns a deep red and sputters. Jinho is on the verge of laughing when Hwitaek says, “Shut up, Hyunggu! You got two dicks last night!”  
  
Jinho turns to Yuto, who’s at the register. He blushes a little at the attention, but says, “Yes, he did. His new boyfriends are very generous.”  
  
Jinho bursts out laughing when Hyunggu gives a dying screech of embarrassment, and Wooseok tells them to stop acting like third graders.________

**Author's Note:**

> 08/06/20 hi i orphaned it ok bye


End file.
